The Quiet But Strong
by pressed.flowers
Summary: Aggie wakes up in the Box, but she still remembers. She's spent years with her best friend, desperately searching and hoping to find her older brother Minho, who was who was kidnapped by WICKED. How will she deal with finding her brother, and the pain when he does not remember her?
1. REWRITING!

Hey there!

I recently looked back at this and realized how terrible the writing was in the first few chapters.

Therefore, I've decided to rewrite the entire thing. So new chapters should be coming up soon!

I started rewriting this and I'd like you to know that I've changed a few things, but I don't think that they'll be noticeable.

Enjoy!

-Zoe


	2. Dagger

I was surrounded by grey mist, and somewhere far away I could hear voices singing. I had been floating in this dreamlike state for days, and I didn't really know how to leave. I had tried walking towards the voices, but they only sounded further and further away, no matter what direction I walked in. Somehow, I knew that this wasn't reality. All I could do was hope that I'd wake up soon.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of screeching metal.

Confused, I sat up, clutching my hands to my ears in an attempt to muffle the noise. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Where was I?

It looked like I was in an elevator, a metal cage of some sort. I was surrounded by a symphony of organized chaos, crates and boxes stacked on top of each other, ropes and tools shoved into corners in a mismatched puzzle of objects.

I blinked, attempting to get my eyes used to the dim lighting.

Whilst taking in my environment, I spotted something hidden in one of the corners, peeking out behind a cluster of shovels. Carefully, I stood up, supporting myself against the cold metal wall as I shuffled towards it.

I moved a few shovels out of the way and kneeled down. This mysterious object turned out to be a bag, made out of worn black leather.

Wait.

This looked familiar.

Where had I seen this before?

Sitting down, I opened the bag and started rummaging through it. Inside, I found a first aid kit, a few weapons, water bottles, pencils and several notebooks. Curious as I was, I picked up a notebook and started flipping through the pages.

Suddenly, I tensed. My eyes were drawn to a word, written in the margins of a page.

W.I.C.K.E.D.

How was it possible that this could strike so much fear into me?

Looking back, I found it kind of funny. The fact that six letters, scribbled messily on a page, could bring back a whole lifetime's worth of memories. Every smile, every sunset, every tear shed, every moment of my existence crashed into my mind and sent me stumbling backwards.

Papa, and his wide smile when we surprised him on his birthday. When I was small he would lift me above his head and together we'd pretend that we were flying. Laughter would fill the house, ringing through dark streets and brighten the foggy corners. Little did we know back then, how times would change. Only a few years later, I would hear Papa scream, a terrible scream of despair and agony as he fell to his knees, crying. He was yelling, looking after those terrible cars that had driven away with Mama and my sister, Eli.

After that he changed. Before that, his eyes would glitter and he would laugh his loud laugh, a ringing sound that could strike happiness into the hearts of everyone on our street. Now his eyes grew cold only spilled tears, and I never heard that laugh again. It seemed as a grey gloom had settles over our house. Minho and I did our best to survive, but it was hard. We had our friend, Linna, and her brother, and as we desperately tried to bring happiness into Papa's eyes again, we started to lose the happiness of our own minds as well.

A few weeks later the cars came back again. This time they took Papa, and this time he did not cry or scream. He just looked at me, and smiled.

"Goodbye, my Dagger."

He would always call me his Dagger. He said that if I ever wanted something bad enough, I could focus on it, and throw myself in the right direction, and then I'd sail through the air and hit my destination. It was silly, yes, but every time he said those words I felt like I was special. I was his Dagger, and I could single-handedly conquer the world if I so wanted.

Minho was another story. He had sad eyes from the beginning. He was a child of war, a terrible war, an orphan that my parents had adopted. When the hardships came he was the strongest of us all. We never really saw each other as true siblings, we saw each other as a team, best friends, partners in crime. There were many things to call the bond that we shared, but one thing could never change. We were unwaveringly loyal to one another, and our sense of respect for each other was stronger than any other. Losing him hit me the hardest.

When they took him away too, it broke me. I didn't speak for days. I didn't eat. I couldn't function normally. Minho was my other half, and when I lost him I lost a part of me.

It took a long time for me to recover, and I had to help Linna, who'd lost her sister a few days after I lost Minho. Our team had started out as four, at that moment we were down to two.

Now, sitting in a metal cage of some sort, we were finally down to one.


End file.
